


The Three of Us

by kitlee625



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlee625/pseuds/kitlee625
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When May is injured in the field, Coulson and Ward reflect on her relationship with each of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to my editor/collaborator Sarahastro for her help on this story.
> 
> The title comes from the song "The Three of Us," written by Starlee Kine, Joe McGinty, and Julia Greenberg for episode 339, "Break-Up" of _This American Life_.

Coulson’s heart caught in his throat when he saw Ward carrying May in his arms up the ramp of the plane.

Ward looked apologetic. “She was shot in the chest. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

He had contacted them on the way back to the plane, and Simmons was waiting next to Coulson. She rushed over towards them and checked May’s pulse. 

“Weak and thready, but still there. Bring her into the lab.”

Coulson followed them into the lab where Ward deposited her onto the table. Fitz helped Simmons attach the monitors while Simmons examined her.

“Her lung is collapsed, and she has a hemothorax. I’m going to need to drain it. Fitz get me a chest tube kit.”

Fitz did as she said but gave her a squeamish look. “Do you need any help?”

“Yes, that would be lovely. I need another set of hands to attach the tubing to drain the blood, and someone to hold her down.”

“I can do that,” Coulson said. He moved closer to the table where May was lying unconscious, barely breathing. He placed one hand on her shoulder and another at her neck feeling the faint but steady pulse.

“I’ll give her some pain medicine, but it still might hurt,” Simmons said. She gave May an injection into her bicep then turned to Fitz. “Are you ready with the drainage apparatus?”

“Ready.”

“All right.” Simmons picked up the scalpel, and they watched as she made an incision along May’s ribs and slid the chest tube through. Almost immediately bright red blood filled the drainage bottle, and Fitz looked like he was trying not to pass out. He took several gulps of air and looked away.

Skye burst into the lab. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She got shot,” Ward explained.

Simmons stared at the vitals blinking on the monitor. “Her vitals are stabilizing. The bullet lacerated a small blood vessel when it passed through her chest. We’ll need to monitor the blood loss, but I think she’s going to be okay.” She secured the chest tube with a few sutures. 

Coulson looked at Ward. He could not tear his eyes away from May, and Coulson wondered if when this was all over he needed to have a talk with him about the dangers of mixing business with pleasure. “I need you to get us out of here. You’re the only other person certified to fly.”

“Yes sir,” he said. He gave May one last lingering look and headed to the cockpit.

Fitz and Skye went to the lounge to analyze the device that May and Ward had been sent in to recover, leaving Simmons and Coulson in the lab. Simmons hooked May up to some IV fluids and a pack of red blood cells.

“How is the chest tube output?” she asked Coulson.

“It looks like it’s slowing down,” he said.

“Good. I gave her a coagulant, and I think the bleeding has stopped. I’d like to avoid surgery if possible.”

Coulson nodded.

“Hey Simmons?” Skye called from the lounge. “Can you come here for a minute?”

“It’s okay. I’ll watch her,” Coulson said.

Simmons nodded. “Let me know if the chest tube output picks up.” She went into the lounge to help Fitz and Skye.

Coulson pulled a chair over to the table so he could sit and hold her hand.

“Hang on, Melinda.” He brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Just hang on.”

It was a too familiar scene. Both of them had sustained more than their fair share of injuries over the years. He traced the outline of an old scar along her flank. Agents were trained to expect injuries and ignore pain in order to get the job done. 

Everything at S.H.I.E.L.D. came down to sacrificing whatever it took for the greater good. When he had been younger it had been easy to justify the cost and compartmentalize his life. He and Melinda had known each other since they were in S.H.I.E.L.D. academy together. He had always had a special fondness for her, and he was reasonably sure that she felt the same way, but neither of them had ever acted on it. Romantic entanglements between agents were not prohibited, but they were frowned upon if they would affect your ability to get the job done.

As hard as it was to watch May go into dangerous situations, he knew it would be impossible if they were actually involved. Now more than ever he needed her, not only for missions, but for her guidance. The list of people he trusted completely was a lot shorter these days after learning the truth about Tahiti. He could not afford to let a few lingering romantic feelings jeopardize what they already had.

As he watched May sleep, he wondered how Ward did it. He had no doubt that Ward cared about May - he had noticed a few lingering looks when Ward thought no one else was watching. So far though he had not let it affect his performance in the field, which Coulson admired. He wondered if he would be able to do the same in Ward’s position, but then he put that thought out of his mind. It was easier not to even entertain that particular what if. Not with lives like these.

He squeezed her hand and settled into his chair. He was not sure how long it would take for her to wake up, but he intended to be here until she did.

*****

Ward might be a certified S.H.I.E.L.D. pilot, but he had nowhere near the same comfort level with the bus that May had. It took all his concentration to get them back in the air and lay in a course to the Sandbox where they would be dropping the device off. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but as soon as he engaged the autopilot his mind drifted back to May lying unconscious in the lab. They had gone in together to retrieve the device, and in the ensuing fire fight she had been hit. He was choking on the guilt of being unable to protect her, but of course if he had tried to protect her in the field she would undoubtedly have yelled at him again.

The morning after their first night together she had said, “It’s better if no one knows about this” before sending him back to his hotel room. He could not disagree with that statement, but as he had stood under the spray of the shower he had wondered if that meant that they would be continuing whatever this was.

When she came to him the second time he could not help but ask, “Am I the only one?”

She raised her eyebrows. “We live on an airplane with with a crew of just six people.”

Ward had already thought of that and concluded that out of the other four team members, the only reasonable partner besides himself was Coulson. “Well?”

He expected her to be angry, but she merely looked amused. “Jealous?”

“No.”

“Good,” she said before pulling off his clothes.

She never answered the question directly, but that was typical of her. After that he tried to pick up any clues between her and Coulson. The bus was small enough that he could keep them under surveillance without them noticing. He did not expect them to be sloppy enough to do anything that the others would notice, but he was a trained specialist. After a while, he concluded that while she was not having sex with Coulson, the truth was almost more discouraging. With Ward she was always guarded and quiet. She was not interested in sharing her thoughts, nor did she seem interested in his. With Coulson she was very different. She never discouraged his company and tolerated his constant chatter. He frequently came to her for advice, and she sought out his counsel as well.

The younger team members had also noticed their close relationship. Skye jokingly referred to them as Mom and Dad and speculated that they must have done it back in the day.

“Who knows, maybe they’re still doing it now,” she said one day.

“How? We live on an airplane,” Fitz pointed out.

Skye was not discouraged from her theory. “They’re trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. I’m sure they know how to hook up without anyone noticing.”

Simmons sighed. “That would be adorable. It would be nice if they had someone, and they do seem very close.”

“I still think we would notice something. The bus isn’t that big,” Fitz said.

“Can we get back to the game?” If there was more sharpness in his voice than they might expect for someone simply annoyed that idle chatter was interrupting their game of Axis and Allies, the others did not comment on it.

When Coulson was taken, May and Ward argued about her decision to kick Skye off the plane. It was the first time he heard her be anything other than cool and in control. She sounded sad when she said, “You don’t have to think the worst of me.” Ward did not know how to respond. It was not that he thought the worst of her, but that he had no idea what was going on in her head. May and Coulson might be on the same wavelength, but she and Ward were always misunderstanding each other. 

Once he was satisfied that their flight path was stable, he left the cockpit and went to the lab. Coulson was still sitting beside May, holding her hand. Ward noticed a nearly empty bag of blood hanging from her IV pole with another full bag beside it.

“How is she?”

“She’s stable,” Coulson said, but by his tone Ward could tell he was worried. “She’s still bleeding, but Simmons gave her another dose of coagulant.”

He nodded. “I can take over for you,” he said.

Coulson shook his head. “I’m fine here.”

Ward pulled another chair over to the table and sat down. He waited to see if Coulson would order him back to the cockpit, but he only gave him a nod before turning his attention back to May. The two men sat beside her in silence for hours until they both drifted off to sleep.

*****

The throbbing pain in her side pulled May out of unconsciousness. The pain medication that Simmons had given her had worn off, to be replaced by a fiery ache that burned every time she took a breath. As she woke up she surveyed her surroundings. She was lying on the table in Fitz-Simmons’ lab. Coulson and Ward were sitting on either side of her, both of them asleep for now. She felt a surge of annoyance with an undercurrent of guilt. There was no logical reason for one of them to be sitting with her instead of Simmons, who had medical training. Let alone both of them. 

She had been trying to avoid these kind of personal attachments since she came out of retirement. Her teammates might think that she was cold and unfeeling, but she knew first hand how attachments, romantic or otherwise, led to trouble in the field. It was safer for everyone if she stayed locked up in the cockpit. She thought that at least Coulson and Ward understood that. Yet there they were watching over her like two guardian angels.

She sat up and started pulling off the electrodes monitoring her vitals. Immediately her heart rate sped up, and she felt dizzy. Her head ached, and her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. All symptoms of blood loss. Two empty bags of blood hung from her IV pole along with a couple of bags of saline, and she squeezed them into her veins until she regained her equilibrium. Then she silently detached herself from her IV’s, picked up the chest tube drainage bottle, and crept out of the lab for the cockpit.

She had only just gotten settled into the pilot’s seat when she heard an annoyed squawk behind her. 

Simmons was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips looking furious. “May! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting! You still have a chest tube in place, and I need to monitor your vitals closely.”

Beside Simmons stood Ward and Coulson, neither of whom looked surprised to see her there. If anything they looked amused.

“I need to fly the plane,” May said.

“Ward can do that,” Simmons snapped. “Get back in the lab right now. You’re lucky you didn’t pull out your chest tube when you were running around the bus.”

May was not used to seeing Simmons so authoritative with anyone but Fitz. She looked at Coulson to back her up, and he said, “She’s the team’s medical officer.”

May sighed and stood up to allow Ward to take over. As they changed places in the cockpit his fingers gently brushed against her waist so briefly that she wondered if it was intentional. Then she picked up the chest tube bottle and with as much dignity as she could muster followed Simmons back to the lab.


End file.
